


After

by AlmondRose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dumbledore is behind all of Voldemort's greif, Everyone is Dead, Gen, Voldemort might be ooc, Wizard Afterlife, angst probaby, no magic in the afterlife, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 02:50:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6177223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmondRose/pseuds/AlmondRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So dying does not hurt after all....</p><p>Voldemort is dead and figuring out the afterlife</p><p>(sorry I'm bad at summaries)</p>
            </blockquote>





	After

He felt rage, and he yelled the words, and this time it was going to work but his wand was yanked from his hand, and the boy caught it, pointed it at him, and then Voldemort saw green. _So dying does not hurt, after all…_

  
He opened his eyes to see a familiar ceiling. He sat up and looked around, and sure enough he was in his old dormitory at Hogwarts. He was alone, and Voldemort remembered that he was dead, but he--miraculously--wasn’t afraid. He walked over to the door and stopped. In the corner of his eye he had seen the mirror on the wall, and he had not seen Lord Voldemort there. He turned, and it was like he was fifteen again--he _was_ fifteen again, but he had hated being fifteen, he looked like his father too much, so why was he fifteen?

  
His thoughts were interrupted by the door pushing open. A teenage girl stood there. She saw him and froze. He wondered if she knew who he was.

  
“Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else,” she said and Voldemort was shocked because he recognized her.

  
“Who are you looking for?” he asked. He was not about to tell her who he was before he found out her intentions, though. Her face went slightly pink.

  
“Uh, someone I worked for,” she said. “It’s fine. I’m sorry for bothering you…”

  
“How long have you been so polite, Bella?” he asked and she paled.

  
“Um,” she said. “I’m dead now, there’s no reason to be rude. It’s not like I can kill anyone…” She laughed nervously. She still had no idea who he was. He smiled.

  
“Maybe I can help you find Lord Voldemort, then,” he said and her face changed very quickly. Suddenly she was older, like she’d looked the day she died, and she hissed, “Never say the Dark Lord’s name, fool.” Voldemort stepped back and although he wasn’t afraid, he understood why many were.

  
“Why not?” he asked casually. She seethed.

  
“It’s disrespectful,” she said.

  
“We’re dead,” he said. “Voldemort is too. You can’t be harmed.” Bellatrix struggled for breath and calmed herself, shrinking down to a teen.

  
“Fine,” she said. “Fine.”

  
“How do you do the aging thing?” Voldemort asked. She shrugged.

  
“I sort of willed it,” she said. “I’m not sure.” He willed himself back to his proper age. He felt a splitting pain and Bella shrieked. He collapsed to the floor, and suddenly everything looked so much bigger than it had before.

  
“What are you?” Bellatrix asked shrilly. “I’ll go find someone!” She dashed off and he wondered if that was what she had been like before she joined him. She returned a minute later followed by his second most hated foe.

  
“You!” he tried to roar but it came out more as a croak.

  
“Me,” Dumbledore said and he looked over him. “You’ll want to go back to fifteen or so, Tom.” He didn’t move in an act of defiance. Dumbledore sighed. “Your body here is a representation of your soul,” he said. “So we can look however we want, up to the day you died. But your soul is too maimed. You can’t look anything older than when you made your first Horcrux. I apologize.” He left.

  
“What are you waiting for?” Bellatrix asked. “Age down!”

  
“I can’t give him the satisfaction of being right,” he grunted.

  
“Why?” she asked. “You look awful, and that can’t be comfortable.” It wasn’t.

  
“What do I look like?” he asked. She took the mirror off the wall and showed him. It was like before he was risen, when Wormtail cared for him. He didn’t like looking so frail and small, but he made no move to change.

  
“Change back, you looked nice then,” Bellatrix said and he realized she was scared of him. He smiled.

  
“Do not tell Lord Voldemort what to do,” he said in his most menacing voice and she paled.

  
“M-my Lord?” she whispered and he smiled again. She looked ready to throw herself to the floor.

  
“Please, Bella, you don’t kneel,” he hissed. “Just move me to the bed.” She nodded quickly and reverently picked him up and placed him on the bed.

  
“Do you need anything else?” she asked in a hushed whisper.

  
“Just leave me here. Make sure I am undisturbed,” he said and she scampered away quickly.

  
\--------

  
Time passed and Voldemort changed back to his sixteen year old self. He wandered the afterlife, which looked like Hogwarts, which was both an issue and a comfort. It was not long before he saw Dumbledore again, accompanied by a young girl who resembled him a little. He froze in the shadows and watched Dumbledore pass. When the wizard had turned the corner, Voldemort kept walking.

  
\------

  
He liked to be in the Chamber of Secrets or search for Nagani. Bellatrix liked to follow him.

  
\------

  
He saw Snape, looking much much younger with a redheaded girl who Voldemort saw had Potter’s eyes. They were laying in the grass on the grounds, looking at the sky and discussing morals. Snape saw Voldemort and Bellatrix standing by the lake. His ex-right hand man recognized him somehow and paled. He said something to Lily, and she looked at him too. There was a staring contest before Lily said something else--Voldemort saw her mouth form the word “Harry”--and she and Snape got up and left.

  
\-------

  
Voldemort walked past a window that a round young man was standing by. Voldemort recognized him instantly, of course--Wormtail was in the same age range he had been in when he joined the Death Eaters. Voldemort stopped walking and stood next to Wormtail, curious to see what he was looking at. Four boys were sitting under a tree and laughing. Voldemort recognized Potter’s father and Regulus's brother, and the werewolf Bellatrix’s niece had married. The fourth boy had red hair like Potter’s friend’s family---the people Lucius complained about a lot--the Weasley’s. Voldemort looked at Wormtail. His face was full of sadness and remorse, an emotion Voldemort recognized but had never experienced, much like love.

  
\-------

  
It was odd, looking like a teen again. Bellatrix, who followed him almost everywhere, often adopted the shape as well, but sometimes she looked like an adult. Looking like a teen made Voldemort angry because he held no power, not many recognized him, but it had it’s perks as well. He could stay in the shadows, listen to people talk. Now that he could not be in charge, make everything his way, a favorite pastime of his was listening to people talk about loved ones still alive and talk about regrets. The only regret he had was that Potter had not come here with him. Besides the lack of magic, being dead wasn’t too bad. Once he had tried to look down in the land of the living. He had looked at the Malfoys. Lucius had been at the Ministry. Narcissa had been sitting in the manor. Draco had been talking to a young lady while they walked. They were boring. He looked at Potter. He was sitting in a house on a Muggle street, with Ginny Weasley and his constant companions, Granger and Weasley. They were laughing and not doing much of anything. Voldemort withdrew his gaze and decided that without him, living was awfully boring.

  
\------------

  
The Weasley boy came first. Voldemort saw him, once, surrounded by other redheads and crying and laughing at the same time. James and Lily Potter approached him and talked to him. Lily hugged him. Voldemort walked away, Bellatrix scowling at her killer.

  
\-------

  
Longbottom was next. He talked to his parents and the Weasley, and once again they laughed and hugged. He saw Bellatrix and paled. She laughed and Voldemort smirked.

  
\--------

  
Voldemort didn’t mean to keep running into Potter’s friends, but he saw Granger and Dumbledore talking in the library once when Voldemort was trying to find Nagani. He was convinced she was somewhere, he just hadn’t found her yet. Granger looked over at him, her eyes wide. He turned to go.

  
“Tom Riddle?” she asked and he turned.

  
“What?” he snapped.

  
“D-do you have any regrets?” She looked nervous. Dumbledore looked slightly surprised. He considered the matter. He remembered once, long ago, when he had wished Potter was here with him. He wished sometimes he could do magic here, but he didn’t really need it. He wanted to look like he had at his height of power.

  
“I regret that I haven't found Nagani yet,” he said after a minute and swept out of the room. He saw Granger and Dumbledore exchanging a look behind his back.

  
\-------

  
He found a woman in the Chamber of Secrets. She was thin and she looked about twenty.

  
“Tom,” she said when she saw him. “I want to talk to you.” He walked past her. He was not ready to talk to her, as he knew who she was. “Tom,” she said again.

  
“No,” he said and walked over to the statue of his ancestor. The basilisk was curled up inside the mouth. He wondered if he could set it on her.

  
“I want you to understand,” she said. “I’ve been watching you…”

  
“And you’re disappointed?” he said.

  
“I don’t agree with what you’ve done, but I still...Dumbledore said...”

  
“Oh, you’ve been talking to Dumbledore?” he spat.

  
“Better than talking to Morfin,” she said. “It’s getting harder to avoid him. Or my father.”

  
“That’s your problem,” he said, still not facing her.

  
“Tom,” Merope repeated.

  
“If you want Tom, go find the Muggle afterlife and get him!” he said, his voice rising.

  
“I will call you the name I gave you,” she hissed. “I am your mother.”

  
“I,” he said, spinning around, “am _not_ your son.”

  
“He said you couldn’t love because you were conceived under the effects of a love potion,” she said, her face turning slightly red with shame. “That’s why you could never understand.”

  
“Who said this?” he asked although he knew the answer.

  
“Dumbledore did,” she said. “That’s all I wanted to tell you.” She turned to go, then stopped. “I’m glad you have a friend now, though.”

  
“What?” he asked. “I don’t have friends. I am alone.”

  
“Does Bellatrix think so?” she asked and Voldemort knew he was not the only one who lurked in corners and watched without being seen.

  
“Bellatrix isn’t my friend,” he said. “She’s the only one still faithful, that’s all.” Merope gave him a strange look.

  
“If you say so,” she said and then she left, leaving him to stand alone and wonder.

  
\------

  
He saw Slughorn, once. Slughorn startled and turned and ran, as if Voldemort couldn’t see him. Voldemort tried not to laugh.

  
\------------

  
He saw red hair, and he ducked behind a column. It was Ginny and Lily. He wondered how long Ginny had been dead. She looked fifteen or so, which was four years older than she would’ve been if Potter hadn’t interfered. He watched them talk about trivial things like life and love and children and Harry Potter. Then Ginny turned and saw him. Her eyes went wide and she shrank down to an eleven year old.

  
“Ginny?” Lily asked and Ginny swallowed and aged up to an adult. Her eyes narrowed with fire behind them and Lily noticed what she was looking at. “Oh, Ginny, I’m so sorry, I should’ve warned you that he likes to lurk.” Ginny didn’t respond. She started at him for a while, then lifted her middle finger at him. He didn’t move. Ginny turned to face Lily.

  
“So where’s James, then?” she asked and Voldemort slinked away.

  
\-------

  
He passed by the headmaster’s office and paused. He’d never been up there, and he wondered if Dumbledore and Dippit and McGonagall had tea parties in there. He approached the gargoyle.

  
“Password?” it asked.

  
“Headmaster?” he tried. The gargoyle didn’t move. “Dumbledore? Chocolate frog? Hogwarts?” At the last word, the gargoyle sprang to life and Voldemort took the stairs. The door at the top looked no different than it had when he was at school, and he pushed the door open. The office was different, more old-fashioned. The portraits did not move on the walls. On the desk was an object he recognized--Hufflepuff’s cup.

  
“Oh my god,” a female voice said and he turned. There were four teens--twelve or thirteen years old-- wearing modern day Hogwarts uniforms--one of each house--crowded around a pensieve. “Did you really do that?” the girl continued. She was in a Ravenclaw outfit.

  
“Yeah,” the boy in Gryffindor robes said. “It _maybe_ wasn’t my best idea ever.”

  
“You don’t have good ideas, ever,” the boy in the Slytherin outfit said. The two girls giggled.

  
“Says the man who thought a snake in the bottom of the school was a good idea,” the Gryffindor said indignantly.

  
“Sally wasn’t in the bottom, she was in the pipes,” the Slytherin corrected.

  
“You named your giant flippin' snake Sally?”

  
“Boys, boys,” the Hufflepuff said. “We have a visitor.” She gestured to Voldemort.

  
“Those happen occasionally,” the Gryffindor said, turning with the rest. “Who is it-oh. You take this, Sal.” He pushed the Slytherin forward.

  
“Godric!” the Slytherin hissed and suddenly Voldemort realized who they were.

  
“ _You_ are the founders?” he asked.

  
“Who did you think we were?” Rowena asked, hands on her hips.

  
“That is typically why people come up here,” Godric said.

  
“And you’d think you’d want to meet me,” Salazar said, puffing out his chest. Voldemort noticed that he had on the locket. “Spiffing work, by the way, on the opening the chamber and trying to take over wizardkind.”

  
“Salazar!” Helga said, hitting his arm lightly.

  
“What? I’m a fan. Except for getting Sally killed.”

  
“Now _that_ was spiffing work,” Godric said. “Slytherin’s basilisk, killed by Gryffindor’s sword? Yeah, ten points to Harry Potter.”

  
“Ten points to _him?_ ” Salazar cried. “I can think of way more--”

  
“Stop it!” Helga said. The two boys backed away, looking ashamed. Rowena straightened her diadem, which Voldemort was embarrassed to admit he hadn’t noticed she was wearing.

  
“So do people come up here a lot?” he asked.

  
“When they want advice, or our opinion, or just to talk,” Helga explained. “Dumbledore comes up here a lot.”

  
“We’ve been acting as therapists of sorts to some people,” Rowena said. “Do you need anything?”

  
“No,” he said and Salazar giggled softly. It was odd to think that this boy was his great and noble ancestor. “What?” he snapped.

  
“It’s just a very Slytherin thing to do, not admitting that you need help,” Salazar said. Rowena elbowed him.

  
“Do you have any questions, at least?” Godric asked.

  
“How do you have my Horcruxes?” he asked.

  
“First of all, they aren’t yours,” Rowena said snippily. “And when Vincent Crabbe, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger killed the bit of your soul inside them, the objects died too, so they are here.” He was silent for a minute.

  
“What were you doing with the pensieve?”

  
“We like to look at our memories and figure out what we did wrong in life,” Godric explained. “Not in a tripped-and-fell kind of wrong, but the deep stuff.”

  
“Like why are Slytherins stereotyped to be bad guys,” Helga said.

  
“We can also look at the memories of Hogwarts itself,” Godric added. “Everything that ever happened in the hallowed halls, we can see.”

  
“We can figure out what went wrong, and we can figure out how to make it better,” Salazar said. “Like when they invented that _awful_ song.”

  
“You mean,” Godric grinned and Salazar frowned.

  
“Don’t you dare,” he warned.

  
“HOGWARTS HOGWARTS HOGGY WARTY HOGWARTS TEACH US SOMETHING PLEASE--” Godric, Rowena, and Helga belted out. Salazar screeched and covered their mouths.

  
“Don’t sing it!” he wailed and his fellow founders laughed. Godric licked Salazar’s hand over his mouth and Salazar jumped back. Voldemort watched all this, perplexed.

  
“Why are you children?” he asked. “Why not adults?”

  
“We want to be,” Rowena said simply.

  
“But think of the power you could have!”

  
“We don’t want power,” Helga said. “We want to have a school.”

  
“I wouldn’t mind a bit of power, personally,” Salazar said and Godric elbowed him.

  
“Shut up, Sa _loser_.”

  
\--------

  
He never went back to the founders. He did like to track down other people interested in Dark Arts and brag a bit. Most people fawned over him. Grindelwald looked ready to punch him in the face.

  
\----------

  
He found Bellatrix one day, talking to Narcissa Malfoy. Narcissa didn’t recognize him. Bellatrix left with him.

  
“When did she die?” he asked.

“A while ago,” Bellatrix answered. “Even Draco’s dead at this point.”

  
“Should we find Lucius?” he asked. He liked to think that if he had enough followers, he could have another band of Death Eaters. Unfortunately not many people still wanted to follow him.

  
“I think he doesn’t want to see you,” Bella said. “Wouldn’t he have found you by now if he did?”

  
He didn’t say anything.

  
\------

  
He still couldn’t find Nagani.

  
\-------

  
He saw Harry Potter. He was sitting with his parents and Dumbledore, the entire Weasley family, Longbottom, Granger, Snape, Black, Lupin, Bellatrix’s niece, and a blonde girl who might’ve been imprisoned in Malfoy manor some time ago. They were all talking in a big group. Harry Potter looked like he was eleven again. Most of his friends matched his age. Voldemort got the impression he was newly dead, based on the way he was leaning on his parents and looking around with a sense of disbelief and wonder. Voldemort cast his gaze around. He saw his mother in the shadows as well as Peter Pettigrew. Wormtail was watching the whole scene with watery eyes and an odd expression on his face. Voldemort started to move away, but he heard someone--he knew who--say, “Tom.” He turned. Harry was looking straight at him. Voldemort met his eyes, then turned and kept walking.

  
\----------

  
He walked past the tapestry three times and once again, no door appeared. Voldemort decided Nagani was not in there.

  
\---------

  
Instead of just walking around quietly, he and Bellatrix had taken to talking about their feelings. Voldemort despised the idea of it and yet he still told her everything.

  
\---------

  
He considered talking to his mother. He never did.

  
\--------

  
An eternity later, lurking grew dull. He didn’t have anything else to tell Bellatrix. He didn’t want to make amends with anyone. He wanted to find his snake. He didn’t know where else to look.

  
\--------

  
He pushed open the doors and paused. The Astronomy Tower looked the same as it always did.

  
“I’d wondered when you’d come, Tom,” the voice said and he turned. Dumbledore was standing next to the wall. Voldemort wondered if that was where he’d stood when he died. Seemed like the sort of daft thing the old man would do. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I stay like this.” Dumbledore gestured to himself. It hadn’t really crossed his mind, to be honest. Voldemort had just always pictured him that way, and looking younger would've been odd. “It is for the same reasons you would look old if you had the choice. Because I didn’t like myself when I was younger.” Voldemort didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything, really. Dumbledore walked over to him. Voldemort felt like he was scanning him with his piercing eyes.

  
“So why have you come?”

  
“I was wondering if you’d seen my snake.”

  
“Nagini? I’m afraid not.” Dumbledore smiled pleasantly and Voldemort was tempted to throttle him.

  
“Why are you smiling, old man?” Voldemort asked, impressing himself for not yelling the words.

  
“Because I might be able to help you find her,” Dumbledore said.

  
“Just tell me where she is!” he hissed and Dumbledore chuckled.

  
“I thought you had more manners than that, Tom.”

  
“I am not Tom Riddle!” he yelled.

  
“I never said you were,” Dumbledore said, amused. Voldemort snarled and pulled at his hair. This was why he didn’t talk to people except Bellatrix anymore. Dumbledore allowed Voldemort time to calm down. Whatever his faults, Voldemort knew Dumbledore was right.

  
“Will you _please_ help me find Nagini?” Voldemort asked as politely as he could after a long minute.

  
“Of course,” Dumbledore said. “Help will always come at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” With that Nagini slithered out of the shadows.

  
“You’ve had her here all this time?”

  
“I wondered how long it would take for you to come,” Dumbledore said.

  
“Well, I came. Let’s go, Nagini,” he said, and he turned towards the door. “Oh, and don’t think I’m coming back.”

  
“I would never dare to assume,” Dumbledore said lightly and Voldemort walked away, closing the door behind him.

  
\-----------  
\-----------

  
“He’s never coming back,” Harry said quietly, coming out from the shadows.

  
“I agree,” Dumbledore said. “That may be the last we see of Lord Voldemort.”

  
“He was there when I first arrived, you know,” Harry said. “Watching.”

  
“I saw him too,” Dumbledore admitted. “I’ve seen him many places. He liked to watch, gain secrets...that way if he ever got the chance, he could take over the afterlife and he’d have an advantage.” Harry was silent for a minute.

  
“Professor,” he said (he had never been able to break the habit), “why did you say ‘Help will come to those who ask for it?’ I thought you amended it to ‘Help will always come to those who deserve it’?”

  
“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore said. “Well, I am not sure Voldemort deserves help. But he does need it. And so he will have it, if he only asks.”

  
“So you kept his snake all this time to annoy him? He doesn’t like asking for help.”

  
“I was trying to teach him a lesson, Harry,” Dumbledore corrected. A twinkle lit up in his eye. “But annoying him is a plus as well.”


End file.
